"Do you suppose we should tell them?"

"Tell them what? That were moving?" Miriam nodded and moved a little closer to her husband on the sofa.

"Due course deary, I think we should give them a few days first."

"Ye just may be right." She replied, kissing his cheek and sipping at her tea.


"Mu-um?" Came a pitiful sob in the middle of the night from Timothy's room. Shelagh heaved her sleepy self out of bed and made her way down the hall. Opening the door softly she stepped in.

"Timothy, love what's wrong?" She asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and running her hand through his hair. (Noting that he was rather warm)

"I don't feel good"

"Oh you poor thing! Shall I lay here for a bit?" He nodded and scooched over, allowing her to slide in.

"There, there. Nothing some mummy cuddles can't help" He tucked himself right up to her as she rubbed his back. She decided to sing to him a bit, if she couldn't ease his pain the least she could do was give him a bit of a smile.

"Dan, Dan, the funny wee man,

Washed his face with a frying pan.

He combed his hair with the leg of a chair,

Dan, Dan, the funny wee man."

Timothy gave a hearty chuckle followed by a nasty cough, and looked up at her.

"Mum?"

"Yes my sweet?"

"Can I have something for my head, and maybe a bucket too?" Shelagh nodded, and gave him a kiss on the forehead before leaving him to go dig through her toiletry bag for the medicine she packed, upon her return she brought him a bucket just in the nick of time.

"Better out than in, eh? Here take this" She handed him a small glass of water and some meds then tucked him back up; staying with him till he fell asleep. Just as he fell asleep Angela woke up, she returned to their bedroom only to see her husband doing a poor job of soothing her.

"You don't have what she wants" Patrick chuckled and handed his daughter over to Shelagh who was now sitting on the bed.

"I suppose only a mum can do." She smiled, and remembered the words she had just told her son.

"Patrick where did you and the boys go earlier today?"

"Out to some restaurant, looked strange. Your brother recommended it." Shelagh sighed, and looked down at her daughter laid on her chest.

"I suspect its a mild dose of food poisoning that Tim has."

"He's not well?"

"No called for me a bit ago, asked for medicine and a bucket. Poor thing had already been to the loo three times before I got to him."

"Is he asleep again?"

"Yes he is." As much as he loved sitting and watching his wife and daughter bond, he knew how tired she was. He wouldn't admit it but he wished that his daughter would finish her routine early so Shelagh could sleep. She adjusted to the jet lag well, but the hot weather was not something she was happy about. Swollen gums and hot weather were not a fun pair for the six month old.

Shelagh laid her in her cot and got back in bed, taking a deep breath she rested her hand on her shoulder, out of place maybe? she thought. She felt a kiss to the back of her neck and Patricks warm hands snake to the sight of pain. She tensed a little, but soon relaxed into his touch. Just as all her stress was fading away she heard a giant crack of thunder that shook the cottage a bit.

"Mum? Dad!?" Timothy called out, panic rising in his voice as the rain started to harshly beat down on the window.

"I go, you get some sleep." The two shared a quick kiss and parted ways, Shelagh laid down and relaxed into the soft sheets letting sleep overcome her quickly. After cleaning up Timothy and ridding the sick from the bucket and sheets the boy was sound asleep and Patrick returned to his wife and bed. Pulling her closer to him she turned and nestled into his chest, oh how he loved when she did this. He loved watching her sleep, the look of pure beauty and innocence took over. He had found his true love.

When morning beckoned them everyone was up and ready for the world except Timothy, he was still asleep at half past nine. No one had the heart to even dare wake him after the night he had, Patrick and Shelagh took turns getting up with him; totalling seven times between them. Both parents were exhausted, but there was much to do today. Shelagh wrote a little note and left it for her son on the nightstand, saying they only went to Sìneag's for breakfast and would return after.

"Oh dear, food poisoning? Poor lad." Sìneag said, feeling utterly awful for her poor nephew.

"Ah, well I'll make the bairn a hearty broth and have him fine and fit in no time."

"Gran you really don't have too." Pleaded Shelagh, not wanting to cause to big a fuss.

"Nonsense what do ye think Seanmhair's are for! We'll take the Bairns today and you two can get a good rest, yin's look half martyred if ye ask me!" Miriam's tone was sweet, Shelagh had missed the scottish voice that was so familiar to her, the voice that sang to her and soothed her pain, her heartbreak, and made the bad things go away.

"Angela should be fine until two papa, if you need anything come get us." Allen smiled, and nodded his head.

Looking down at the sleeping figure in his arms, the little pink ball of joy, love and happiness. She was a miracle baby, Shelagh had told about the miscarriages. She had already lost two babies, and her heart could take no more. They said she wouldn't be able to ever carry a baby to term, as her uterus just wasn't capable. That was until Angela came along.


"Patrick I can't do this again!"

"Shelagh I'm here, just let me in" Patrick wrapped his arms around his wife, and together they waited for the doctor to enter the exam room.

"Lets have a look eh?" Shelagh couldn't hold her sobs in, she was terrified, every inch of her mind and being was scared. The gel was placed and the ultrasound started. There she was. Ten fingers ten toes, a steady 132 heartbeat, and she was 18 weeks along. Shelagh looked at Patrick completely stunned, they said her cycle had stopped as it wasn't needed to continue. They said it was normal. This, this was far from normal. This was beautiful.

"Patrick, thats over a month farther than-" He cut her off and kissed the hand that was holding his ever so tightly.

"I know."

"Mr and Mrs Turner, would you like to know the gender?" The two eagerly shook their heads and looked at each other again.

"It's a girl." A girl they thought, and instantly knew. She was their Angel girl, thus making her name Angela.


Allen could see every freckle that resembled his granddaughter, every line and and pore that she got from her father. She was a Mannion alright, but she was also a Turner.